


MC With PTSD

by MaraJordyn



Series: Obey Me Headcanons [15]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25942390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraJordyn/pseuds/MaraJordyn
Summary: The first time each of them experienced MC having an episode, they didn't really know what to do. They had no idea MC had been suffering through so much, so they do what they can to help.
Series: Obey Me Headcanons [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008189
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	1. Lucifer

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Possible triggers ahead.

He didn’t notice the symptoms at first. Don’t get him wrong, he’s highly observant. It’s just, for one, he’s not an expert in human behavior, and two, MC was doing a damn good job keeping themselves under control. If there were any abnormalities in their behavior, he first chalked it up to them getting adjusted to their new environment.   
That was, until the little signs didn’t go away with passing days, and they even became more severe. He would be lying if it said it didn’t make him anxious.  
He was at RAD with MC during lunch, taking the break to not only get to know them better, but help them study should they need it. They had been perfectly fine then, maybe still not fully looking into his eyes while he talked, but open and content. They then went up to go to the restroom. When they came back, they were almost a different person. Their jaw was clenched, eyes glassy, the skin on their hand red from them scratching.   
“MC...is something wrong?”   
“No.”   
They spit the word out at him, coming out before he had even fully finished his question. He knew they were upset, but he loathed their tone. What had he done to deserve their venom? He straightened up in his seat, eyes lowered in a squint.   
“MC-”   
“What?”   
They hissed, much too jumpy and irritable. He was doing his best to stay level-headed, but it was driving him up a wall. He had done nothing to warrant how they were speaking to him. No one spoke to him like that. But before he could even attempt to lecture them, MC stood up, pushed their seat over, and with their hair balled up in their hands, they ran off. He called out their name, but was too stunned to follow them. He was left dizzy with such a powerful whirlwind of emotions in such a short amount of time.   
He gave them time to cool off, packing up their things, trying to ignore the worry starting to build up in his chest. He sighed. He was certain now that, even among humans, this was abnormal behavior. He scolded himself, he should’ve done something about it sooner. He put off his concern for the time being and continued his busy day at RAD, hoping work would distract these feelings of his.   
Hours passed, the school day came to a close, and Lucifer still had MC’s bag. He waited by the front door, D.D.D in hand, doing his best not to crush the device in his hands when MC wasn’t returning his multiple texts and calls. He kept tapping his foot against the ground. All of his other brothers confirmed that they hadn’t seen MC since before they went out with him to lunch.   
The time for worrying was now.   
He would check every office, every room, every corner of RAD if he had to. It took him hours of scouring the school building to find them. They had been in a dark dusty classroom that had been temporarily abandoned to be redecorated. They were under the teacher’s desk, knees into their chest, D.D.D thrown across the room near some flipped over desks. His notifications were all noted on the front screen. When MC heard his sharp footsteps, they tried sneaking further away into the darkness, covering their ears with their hands with a whimper. The closer Lucifer got, the more he could see them shaking.   
He got to his knees, calling out their name in a soft voice, hand extended to help them up should they want it. Upon hearing his voice, their head snapped up at him, looking panicked as it took them much too long to recognize who he was.   
“L-Lucifer?” Their voice sounded weak. They reached out to take his hand, and once they did, Lucifer gently held them close to his chest. He didn’t know why, he wasn’t one much for physical affection, but, the way they looked, like they weren’t aware of their surroundings...maybe this would help ground them back to place.   
In the safety of their home, the warm fire in the study giving off a peaceful glow, MC told him about it. Not everything, they weren’t ready for that yet. The teacup in their hands was still discovering it hard to stay steady. They told him enough, brushing over the traumatic event they experienced in the past, and then the thing in the hallway they saw that triggered them. They even told him how their many sudden and panic-inducing phone notifications made them feel, but then apologized for it.   
They...apologized, why? Why indeed when it should’ve been him to say ‘I’m sorry’. The only reason why he hadn’t said it yet was because he was doing his best to stay calm, working hard to not destroy anyone that would dare make them feel like that, not realizing the pen in his hand had already snapped in two.   
He got up, putting his coat around their shoulders, sitting down beside them. He was thankful they told him, even though he would’ve loved to be aware of this so much sooner for both of their sake’s. He put a supportive hand on the top of their head, fingers entangled in their hair, and told them to come to him immediately should they ever be triggered or panicked again. It didn’t matter when, where, why, he wanted them to come to him.   
He would work on not spamming their phone, and it was his own personal project to ensure that the scum in both the human and demon world were eradicated. He’d use whatever power he had to help them and make them safe. He knows what to look out for now, and it pleases him when MC comes to him for help so he can put his coat around them and bring them in his arms. He hates seeing him like this, but having him be their source of comfort, their safe space, boosts his pride greatly.


	2. Mammon

Of course he didn’t know. How was he supposed to figure it out, on his own? He was just supposed to come to that conclusion based on their actions when he didn’t even know how humans acted in the first place?   
This is what he kept telling himself, at least, when he made MC spiral into a panic attack.   
He didn’t mean to, seriously, he didn’t. He didn’t know, he didn’t know. He had them in his arms, rocking them back and forth, almost resorting to praying to his own father for them to stop. He didn’t know.   
He had been angry. Not quite Satan level angry, but close. He was tired, irritated, and his brother's relentless teasing had crossed the line for the day. His siblings knew when to stop, when they had taken things too far, and left him alone for the time being, but MC was unaware that giving him space was the best choice. They wanted to comfort him, to make him feel better, to bring him back to his usual carefree self. They cared for him.   
They approached him from behind in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. It was dark, but they could make out the silhouette of his wings against dim moonlight. He was already in his demon form, having probably been in it all day. An aura of emotions surrounded him, and already MC could feel it. They felt prickling on their skin, their hands already turning clammy. MC reached out to him, calling his name.   
Mammon twirled around quickly, his wings puffing up from his hips. He didn’t mean to touch them, but his wings had reacted so suddenly, it knocked their hand back and made them lose balance. They lost their footing and fell back to the floor with a squeak. They looked up at him to only see his eyes glowing, his fists tightened into balls.   
“What do you want? Eh? To be like everyone else? Tell me that I’m scummy? Joke about me?”  
He took a step toward them in the dim light.   
“Tease me?”  
He was unaware of their expression still.   
“Why don’t you say so-“ He finally stopped, his wings lowering. They had their arms up over their face, their entire body trembling. The noise of buzzing in his ears died down enough to hear that they were only taking gasping breaths like they couldn’t breathe. They started rocking themselves back and forth on the floor, their fingers digging into their own skin. In between breaths they were muttering quietly.   
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”   
He fell to his knees, hesitating about even touching MC after what he’d done to them. Then he wrapped them in a tight hug, not entirely sure what to do. He had to bite his own lip to keep from panicking himself. He buried his head in their shoulder.   
“Hey...hey huma-MC-don't be sorry. I’m sorry, please breathe.”   
Levi stepped out of his room to get angry at the commotion, but one look at the situation and the death glare from Mammon made him lower his head and leave them alone. When MC finally calmed down, they were exhausted and embarrassed, too numb for any more crying. He took the both of them back to his room to relax and talk things out so both of them could understand each other’s feelings better.   
MC told him about it, how because of one event in their life, they were prone to panic attacks and meltdowns. They curled up on his couch and told them how pathetic they were. He had to cling to them, bury his nose in their hair and told them not to worry. If anyone was pathetic and scummy, he was.   
He’ll cling to their side much more often. He’ll come to MC whenever he feels like that again so he won’t lash out at them. If any other brother gets riled up and attempts to cross the line, Mammon will be there to stop them. He’d rather have his siblings take out their anger on him than MC.


	3. Levi

He’s typically quite calm in public, most likely due to his social anxiety. He’s quiet, skittish, and shy. He only ever opens up and comes out of his shell when he’s home. Since he also stays in his room alone most of the time, neither him nor MC were aware of how the others acted under stressful situations.   
He should’ve noticed the signs since sometimes he exhibited similar symptoms. Avoiding interactions when possible, the anxiety, the isolation. He just couldn’t get out of his own head enough to realize what that meant. He was too focused on his own problems, on comparing himself to others.   
It took multiple match losses, cocky rivals, and stupid teammates before he got his reality check. He wanted to get to hang out more with MC. He’d ignore the fact that Lucifer and some of his other brothers had highly encouraged (or threatened) him to spend some time with the human. He thought of it himself. It was most assuredly his plan. So he allowed them to trespass into his room to play some games with him. Maybe something light. Like maybe some high ranked battle-heavy online matches. Something simple.  
Whether they were good at gaming or not, the concept and controls were brand new to them, and so they kept dying. Repeatedly. They found out the hard way that demons are even worse sports when it came to losing than humans were. Once Levi had been ridiculed enough and lost some precious ranks along the way, he snapped. MC could feel him start to lose it, and they took it upon themselves to apologize.  
“Levi, I’m sorry, I’ll stop playing. I’m no good. I’ll leave, I’ll-“  
The room turned colder as he turned demon. The controller in his hands snapped, and then quickly splintered, circuitry and plastic shards falling into his lap. Even if it wasn’t a huge display, even if he wasn’t directing anything towards them, just the sound of something breaking and the look on Levi’s face was enough to send MC into full blown distress.   
MC jumped in their seat, letting out a loud scream, covering their ears with their hands at the sound of destruction. Their reaction caused Levi to almost do the same thing, the last thing he expected was to hear MC shriek. He shook his anger and envy out of his head.  
“It’s okay, I have plenty of extra controllers!” He did his best to assure them that he was okay, still unable to realize that while he might be fine, MC was not. He went to put a hand on their shoulder. They flinched from his touch, scrambling backwards with their hands towards his door. Once they made it to their feet, they ran away from him. He got up as quick as he could, following them out his door. All sorts of thoughts were running through his head, most of them self destructive ones, but amidst them all, the thought first and foremost was ‘make sure MC is okay.’   
Their wobbly and unstable legs had caused them to fall to the floor again, trying to get back up using the wall as support. Once they saw Levi was approaching, they dropped to their hands and knees, unable to say words through their tears and air-deprived lungs.   
There were now two sobbing messes on the floor. As if he didn’t hate himself already, now seeing how he made MC feel made the self loathing worse than losing any rank. He apologized profusely, and out of the two of them, MC was actually the first to stop crying.   
With Levi and MC wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, on a cold hard floor in the middle of a hallway, MC told him what had happened to them. They discussed who was involved, and how they never were the same since. It was the first time Levi ever dared put himself above someone, above the trash that dared call themselves human. The maggots that ever thought about harming MC. His friend. His best friend.  
Toxic gamer who? Levi doesn’t know them. Gaming sessions are much calmer now, and he’ll always make sure he knows trigger warnings on shows or games so he can filter those ones out of the stuff he shares with MC. He’ll do his best to make sure they enjoy themselves and that they’re kind to themselves.


	4. Satan

He had read several books on mental illness, partly because It fascinated him, another part because he liked using his knowledge to figure out how messed up his siblings were. It was a fun dinner discussion. So he was aware of the symptoms MC possessed. The way they acted, how they spoke to people, how they would avoid specific things. He was still far away from being a psychologist, though, so even he wasn’t sure how severe it was. He did tend to notice that MC shied away from him anytime he got close to raising his voice or losing his temper. So, for that reason, despite being the demon of wrath, anytime MC was around, he’d be better than anyone else at controlling his emotions.   
He was unprepared for an actual hands on experience. No matter how many times he had read about it, no matter how descriptive and in depth the words were, real life was vastly different from books. He’d admit it was his fault, he was rarely wrong, but when he was wrong, he wasn’t as prideful as his older brother to apologize.   
It had been a day of many firsts. The first day he invited MC to come watch this old documentary with him. The first time he had such an overwhelming emotion other than anger. The first time someone had screamed in terror when he hadn't specifically been the reason why. And it was the first time he had heard MC scream.  
It was a simple documentary about history, and he had ensured it was human history not Devildom history. He thought it was easier to swallow and simpler to relate to. While that might’ve been the case, even he was shocked to find that just the simple history of a single statue would have so much death and abuse. He’d have to thoroughly check these from now on. He had no idea the sound of a gunshot through a television screen would do so much damage.   
MC shrieked, and I mean banshee style. All the hairs on Satan’s body stood up on ends. Their body convulsed so badly, they smacked their head on the back of the couch, a little bit of blood already clotting. They had their hair balled up in their hands, some loose strands torn free, dangling from their fingers.  
“No, no, no!”   
They wailed loudly causing Satan, who was usually calm, to panic. He was used to being angry towards people, not comforting them. The first thing he did was cover them with his body, fighting through their flailing and smacking as they continued to howl in distress. He made sure they couldn’t do any more harm to themselves, using his body as a shield. Their episode was a mixture of fear and anger, doing their best to throw Satan off their body. He refused to let them go, his legs wrapped around theirs, and using his arms to best keep their limbs and head from smacking off the surface of more furniture. At one point, MC’s forehead smacked against his temple making a more than concerning sound. He pressed his own head between their neck, his shoulder wedged on the other side to try to keep their head steady.  
“MC, MC! Breathe! Breathe…”   
He knew how to ground them, how to use their senses to bring them back to him. He made sure they breathed in for four counts, and then out for four. He watched as the thrashing stopped, the screams turned to squeaks as their throat started to give way. He continued to hold onto them, even after their attack had stopped, head buried into their shoulder till he was sure they were okay. He was also busy hiding his glassy eyes in their body, his ears still ringing.   
When all was said and done, he asked MC if it was possible to give him a written list of all their triggers. All books, all movies, all forms of entertainment would be going through him first to make sure they were safe for MC. He would be checking their school work, the school’s lesson plans, and it was one of the few times he actively worked with Lucifer on this. Both of them spending hours pouring over the curriculum.   
He was going to figure out for himself what had happened to MC, since he didn’t want to bother them or make them upset again. The only one who should be worried was anyone who had thought they had the right to make MC experience something like that. He was going to ensure they went through it ten times worse.


	5. Asmo

He’s an expert in body language, so he knew something was up, he just had no idea what. He noticed how slumped their posture would get around other people, how they used their arms to hug themselves. He could see the way they nervously picked at their skin or hair when someone mentioned stressful exams. He saw how they refused to look in the mirror. It bothered him. He assumed they were uncomfortable in their own body, and he had just the solution. To make sure they loved their body as much as he did.  
While he had good intentions, the demonic side of him just took it to a different level. He had invited them to his bedroom, everything nice and cozy, perfect enough for royalty. He made sure he looked great--but he always did--and he wanted MC to feel the same. Surely, the dopamine hit from what he had planned tonight would make them feel better, and make them love their own body all the same.   
So he set the mood, maybe flattered them a bit too much, to be fair. He was so overwhelmed with lust, he didn’t notice how uncomfortable they were. He let them sit on his bed, telling him how soft it was and quiet to boot. Then he made a mistake, taking their laughter and compliments too far as he moved in too close to them and reached for their shirt. Their pupils turned into pinpricks, and as their immediate instinct, they brought their legs up to kick him. Before their knee reached his face, he grabbed it, probably too tightly. They shouted, and before he could say anything, they slapped him. It didn’t sting nearly as much as it would’ve on another human, but it did its job. He was stunned, left alone in his room to gawk at his empty bed as MC ran away, pale as a ghost.   
Luckily, it didn’t break skin or leave him scarred, just a bit red, so he would survive. He was surprisingly more worried about MC other than his complexion. He followed after them, discovering them in the bathroom, the door still left wide open in a haste. They were vomiting, tears in their eyes, throat scratched up to hell and back, legs shaking. He had been to many parties before, so he knew what to do. He naturally came over, making sure the hair was out of their face, that they had water, that they especially knew how sorry he was. They flinched under his touch at first, their skin burning and tingling with anxiety. Then they let him pet their head as they got it out.  
“I’m so sorry, dear, I crossed a line.”  
The effort of expulsion had left MC exhausted, and they moved away from him, head low with shame. They attempted to make their way to bed, to put this all behind both of them. He refused to let them go, not until they had brushed their teeth and had something to drink to make sure they stayed healthy. It was the least he could do. He monitored them as they did so, nervously playing with his own hair to keep him distracted. He did this to them, he did. He should’ve been lust, making people fall for him, making people feel good, not terrified. He felt wrong.   
“MC...I’m so sorry...can you tell me?”   
If they weren’t already weak and dissociated from the situation, they might never have explained to him what happened, what someone had done. They left out explicit details, but he had heard enough. Lust wasn’t like that, was it? He wasn’t like that, was he? He’d change, he’d be better, he promised. He asked MC if it was okay if he gave them a hug. He almost cried when they said yes. He wrapped them up in the sweetest, safest hug a demon could give.   
He doesn’t lay a single finger on MC without asking them first. He makes sure all the brothers do the same. Somehow, even when he’s not around, he’ll know if someone even bumped into them at RAD. Consent for everything and everyone, and if someone dares think otherwise, Asmo is not afraid to get his hands dirty. He moisturizes.


	6. Beel

He’s not dumb by any means, but he’s just not the best at human behavior. He’ll associate MC with aspects of his brothers and just think that it’s normal. He loves his brothers, and he loves MC too, so the signs that should’ve been concerning didn’t click. The way MC liked to keep to themselves was just like Levi and Satan. The way they worked themselves too hard and seemingly didn’t have an enjoyment for more entertaining things, just like Lucifer. He’s almost too accepting, taking things that should’ve been problems into quirks, thinking that it just was the way MC was.   
Then they exhibited the only symptom that concerned him. They stopped eating. They would have a bite, maybe two, and then pass it off to him. Of course he would eat it, they were putting his sin right in front of him and begging Beel to take it. Surely, humans needed to eat more. Surely they were hungry. After all, he was eating ten times more than them and he was still starving. It made the food in his mouth taste rotten.   
He invited them to the gym. They could watch him workout, they would spend time together, and then afterwards he would take them to his favorite restaurants. That would make sure they ate. No one could say no to the kind of food the Ristorante Six figuratively and literally brought to the table. He thought somehow that would cure things. Food was his solution to everything. It made him happy and healthy and he wanted MC to feel the same.  
He was thinking about his plan deep in his mind. He could see the both of them enjoying the best meal they would eat in their lives. He missed the sight of MC getting pale, swaying, wilting under the heat of the gym. He watched as they collapsed, and at that point no amount of food could’ve bribed him away from the problem any longer.   
He got them home, in bed, trying not to tear himself up inside for not making an action sooner. Why did he not make sure they ate immediately? Why did he have to give in to his sin so easily? Why were they even doing this to themselves in the first place?   
When they woke up, the first thing Beel was going to make sure they did was get something--anything--in their body. MC didn’t want that. They had spent days making sure they weren’t eating, they didn’t want it to be ruined. They didn’t want to, they couldn’t, so why was Beel forcing them? They grabbed his clothes and begged, pleaded with him not to make them eat. They were crying now, sending Beel’s mind spiraling. He knew they needed to eat, they needed nourishment, but he didn’t want to say no to them, force them to do something they didn’t want to. He was so torn, confused, why were they upset over something that would help them? All he could do is hold them as they cried, worried about the fact that they barely had the strength left to do so.   
He left them momentarily to rest as he headed away to go ask Satan for more information. Turns out humans, in some cases, like to do things that hurt them. Being a demon, a creature that strives and exists for things that fulfill them and help them thrive, this turned his world upside down. First things first, he made sure they ate, whether they liked it or not. He had to do his best to ignore more crying and fighting. He wasn’t happy until something was in their stomach, smiling a bit as color finally returned to their face.   
Now he’s aware of everything they do, taking notes of things they like, and relaying it all back to Satan to make sure it was safe. He has a real hard time making them upset, but he needs them to be okay, to be whole and happy. He can’t take food from them anymore. In fact, much to the surprise of the household, he refuses to eat unless MC does so. He won’t hesitate anymore.


	7. Belphie

He knows too much about humans unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately in this case. After the human race’s endearing glow had faded, Belphie became too familiar with the darker and more upsetting parts that came with them. Mental illness being one of them. He remembers Lilith endlessly going on about how sad it was, how she wanted nothing more than to take their pain away. So, yes, he was probably the most aware out of all the brothers concerning MC’s condition.   
He saw the same numb nonchalant look in their eyes as he had. The way they slept too much but went to bed much too late, if they even went to bed at all. They both sported the same dark circles under their eyes. MC had too much apathy and not enough energy to follow through with the few things they did care about. Yeah, it sounded just like him, but he was a demon, it almost came with the job. For humans, not only was it worrisome but he knew how dangerous it could be.   
Did he do anything about it? No. He was sleeping too much and doing his best to avoid MC anyway. Why should they want help from someone like him in the first place? After what he did? Helping them was the furthest thing from his mind. He didn’t want to end up hurting them further. Someone else would take care of it.   
That’s what he thought, at least, until Beel invited MC for a sleepover in their room. Beel thought it would be fun for the three of them to hang out more, and Belphie didn’t have the heart nor the energy to say no to his twin. Things had gone fine at first, great even. They shared snacks, Beel going as far as making sure everyone got plenty to eat. They all watched a snooze-inducing amount of movies, Belphie spending most of the time switching between Beel’s and MC’s lap to sleep in. And at the end of it all, even the insomniac MC had gone to bed at a decent time. It was a night of fun with of them in a peaceful rest. Maybe Belphie didn’t have anything to worry about after all.   
Until MC started screaming. The noise woke him and his brother up faster than anything ever had. MC had the blanket they were sleeping with tangled tightly around different parts of their body.They were covered in a terrible cold sweat, stuck in their nightmare as they did their best to wake up. They kept screaming someone’s name over and over again along with running ‘sorry’s and ‘no’s.   
They ended up accidentally scratching their own face with their fingers in the panicked flailing, the pain still not waking them up from the terror. It took both Belphie and Beel to get them awake, and even then, they still weren’t out of the haze for a good while. Belphie’s chest throbbed in pain when he called out their name and they didn’t respond. When they looked into his face, there was no emotion attached to it. It was like they were somewhere else entirely. It was another few minutes before the look of recollection came back into their eyes, and then just after, those same eyes were filled with tears. While Beel did most of the immediate comforting, Belphie realized that this was the reason why they were tired all the time. It was hard to want to sleep and get good rest when nothing but torment awaited you in the night. He understood all to well, and he was sloth, he knew sleep, he could’ve helped them the most in his own element.  
He felt it wasn’t his place, but while Beel had MC tightly in his arms, he came in from behind and rested his head against their back, his fingers digging gently into their pajamas. He buried his face into them, feeling every emotional shudder. MC cried so hard, they ended up falling asleep again, too exhausted to keep themselves conscious any longer. Beel picked them up, preparing to put them in his bed, but Belphie stopped him. He made sure MC was curled up by him, claiming it was only due to his much comfier and agreeable bed. Truth was, he was unable to rest soundly now without making sure MC was sleeping deeply, taking slow and even breaths.   
He puts a little more effort into taking care of MC after that. He’s the demon of sloth, so he knows ways to deter night terrors and insomnia. If MC refuses to sleep, whoops he already gave them a bit of sleeping potion for tonight. They're going to have to deal with a demon dragging them into bed, clinging onto them so tightly they can’t move. He’s still learning how to do things a bit less demanding and over the top, but MC has been sleeping better lately.


End file.
